Scent of Danger

Act Two had ended on a taut, emotional note.

Closely followed by Act Three: CCTL. Sabrina's conference call with Deborah and Mark, and the announcement that had ensued, had resulted in mass pandemonium. The two of them had known that Sabrina's assignment at Ruisseau and a back-to-back personal matter she wasn't ready to discuss yet would keep her away from the center for a chunk of time. But a long-term management consulting gig was one thing. Becoming president of the company she was consulting for—not to mention the daughter of its CEO—that was a total shock. Then-concerns weren't l

imited to how they should handle the press. They extended to how they should handle the staff, the clients, the future.

Sabrina had reiterated the temporary solution they'd already put in place, assuring them that she had no intention of abandoning CCTL. She promised to fly back on Friday and spend the entire weekend hammering out details.

After that, she'd asked them to put her through to Melissa. That hadn't been a cakewalk either. Melissa had been stunned, then worried—more about Sabrina than about CCTL. She'd asked a million detailed questions, and they'd probably still be on the phone now if Sabrina hadn't promised to have a drink with her the minute she got in Friday night, during which time she'd fill her in on everything.

Dylan had been right, Sabrina thought, wishing the Tylenol she'd taken for her headache would kick in. It was barely past the half-day mark, and she was about to implode.

A knock on her door brought her throbbing head up. "Come in."

Stan strolled in, carrying a brown bag that he waved in front of her. "Lunch and I arrived at the same time," he pronounced, shutting the door behind him. "So I took it off Donna's hands and saved us some time." He gave Sabrina a tired smile as he walked to the desk, placed the bag down, and emptied out the contents. "Turkey on rye, roast beef on a roll. Fine dining at its best."

"I'm sorry about that." Sabrina helped him arrange the sandwiches and set up the two containers of coffee. "There wasn't time for a restaurant. Not today."

"No apology necessary." Stan sat down and took a sip of coffee, eyeing her over the rim of the cup. "You look like you're about to collapse."

"Great. It shows already? I can hardly wait till the grand finale. I'll probably drop in the middle of the meeting."

"No you won't. You'll gulp another cup of that—" He pointed at her container of coffee. "Then you'll go into die bathroom, glare at your reflection in the mirror, and give yourself a major verbal beating up. After that, you'll march into the meeting and be fine."

Sabrina's brows rose. "That sounds amazingly accurate. Have you been spying on me?"

"No need. That's what Carson does."

She blew out her breath. "It's pretty scary being his daughter. I'm not sure what's harder—what others expect of me, or what I expect of myself."

Stan's sandwich paused midway to his mouth, and he blinked in surprise. It was the first time Sabrina had blatantly displayed any vulnerability in his presence.

"Don't look so stunned," Sabrina said dryly. "Did you think that because I'm smart and self-assured that I was just taking this whole thing in my stride? If so, I'm either a better actress than I thought or you're not looking close enough. Carson's my father, yes. But he's had twenty-eight years to earn the respect he gets. I'm a rookie by comparison. Raw talent's nice. But it's just the beginning. I've got a lot to learn about Ruisseau. That's why I'm so appreciative of what you and Dylan have done for me. You've helped make this transition easier. I can't thank you enough. That's part of what I wanted to say, one of the reasons I asked you to have lunch with me."

Stan put down his roast beef sandwich. He had an odd expression on his face, like he wasn't quite sure how to handle her personal candor. "You're welcome," he said simply.

"As for the other reason I wanted to have lunch, that one I'm sure you guessed."

"You want to talk about this afternoon's meeting."

"Right. Obviously, you realize it's something pretty important for me to assemble the entire staff. Well, you deserve a heads-up about the agenda, not only because of the support you've shown me and because you're the company's COO, but because of the special place you nave in Carson's life."

"You're coming clean, so to speak," Stan guessed, taking a bite of his sandwich and chewing it. "You're telling everyone who you are to Carson and what you are to Ruisseau."

"Yes." She nodded, watching Stan's reaction. He looked pensive, yes. But he also looked exhausted. And torn. That part was weird. What kind of internal battle was he fighting? Okay, fine, he was freaked out by having another Carson-type at the helm. That much Sabrina got But there was something else eating at him. What was it?

"I think it's time we got my identity out in the open," she continued, still scrutinizing Stan's face, his body language. "Obviously, so does Carson. I hope you feel the same way."

"Yeah, I do." His answer was blunt and, seemingly, frank. "It'll make things much easier once you're official—in both a personal and a professional capacity. Secrets never manage to stay that way for long. After today, everyone will know who you are and what your future is at Ruisseau. And they'll hear it from you."

"Actually, they'll hear it from Carson. He's making the announcement himself, by videotape."

"Even better. It'll hold more weight coming from him." A quick glance at Sabrina. "No offense intended."

"None taken. You're right. Like I said, I harbor no illusions about my place in this company. Carson's the heart and soul of Ruisseau. That's never going to change." She leaned forward, trying a tactic she hoped would work. "Stan, you don't need to walk on eggshells around me. I'm tough. I don't fly off the handle when I'm challenged. And I refuse to accept special treatment because I'm Carson's daughter. I'm counting on you to remember that, and to make sure everyone else does, too. The staff will follow your lead. If you kowtow to me, they will, too. In which case, I can't do my job, and Ruisseau can't fulfill its potential. Agreed?"

He took another bite of his sandwich, chewing it slowly as he considered what she'd said. "Yeah," he said finally, with a terse nod. "Agreed. Although I won't lie to you. This is going to take some getting used to."

"I never thought otherwise. That's what change is about. On the other hand, only idiots fix what's not broken, or implement change for change's sake without retaining the strengths of the previous organization. You've been here since the beginning. Tell me what works. Yell at me if I screw up. Believe me, Carson does. Constantly."